


The Devil May Care

by Vertolina



Series: Even The Devil Needs A Friend [8]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Bromance, Gen, I just want to wrap them both in a blanket and keep them safe from the cruel world, Not Beta Read, One Shot, Protective Lucifer, Worried Lucifer, Wounded Dan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-08 21:56:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11090718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vertolina/pseuds/Vertolina
Summary: This is a follow-up to 'As I Lay Dying', but if you haven't read it, here's what you need to know: Dan got shot and almost died, Lucifer went bonkers because of it and also the Devil thing is not a secret anymore. :D





	The Devil May Care

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Navaros](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Navaros/gifts).



> Ugh, this was meant to be something funny and it turned out, well, the way it turned out.  
> A big thank you to Navaros who gave me the idea for this fic! I hope you'll like it or at least not be too disappointed!
> 
> All comments are welcome!  
> And, please, excuse the silly mistakes you will most probably find!

“Jesus Christ!”

“Nope. Just me.”

“Lucifer, what have I told you about breaking into my house?” Dan bent down to gather the broken pieces of the glass he’d dropped, trying hard to hide the pain the action was causing him.

“To do it loudly so I wouldn’t startle you,” Lucifer recited with a smirk. “You know, most people would opt for a general ban on breaking into their homes.”

“Well, most people don’t know you as well as I do,” the man said, biting back a smile. “You suck at following instructions.”

“Yeah, well, I have a pretty good excuse this time. I was actually being thoughtful.”

“Mind telling me how causing me a heart attack is considered ‘thoughtful’?” Dan stood up and reached for the nearest chair, pressing a hand to his abdomen. It had been two weeks since the dreadful night when three bullets had almost claimed his life and he’d already managed to tear his stiches once. The throbbing pain was a reminder of his doctor’s words that his body needed more time to heal, but the man was tired of lying idly in bed.

“I thought,” Lucifer began, every sign of levity gone from his expression, “that you might be asleep. I didn’t want to wake you up. Why aren’t you resting? The doctor said--”

“I know what he said. I just wanted to get a glass of water,” Dan explained guiltily, forcing a smile. Everything he’d done since waking up in the hospital bed, surrounded by the people who loved him the most, was to pretend that he was fine; that he could barely feel the blinding pain; that he wasn’t afraid his life could end in the blink of an eye. And yet he knew he wasn’t fooling anyone. He knew it from the way Trixie was clinging to him, thinking he wouldn’t notice the tears in her eyes; he could see it written on Chloe’s face every time she asked if he needed anything. He could tell that they were playing the same game of pretend he was and his heart was heavy with remorse for the pain he’d caused them. A bystander would say that his friend was the only one not affected by his recent quite literal encounter with Death, but Dan could see through Lucifer’s carefully crafted façade. He was still his usual cheerful, immature, often irritating and occasionally unbearable self and yet his every action felt like an act, an elaborate performance meant to hide his true feelings from the world.

“So, I guess it’s a good thing I’m here.” The fallen angel managed to restore the gleeful vibe in his voice as he proceeded to fill another glass and handed it to him with an ambiguous grin, “Your personal guardian Devil.”

“Uh, thanks, man. But you don’t have to worry about me. Like I told Dr. Rodriguez and Chloe, and you… _repeatedly_ , I feel fine. I just need… The hell?!” Dan had gathered enough strength to rise from his rescue chair and walk the few steps separating him from his friend, intending to guide him to the front door, and now was facing a suspicious object, made of black leather, the existence of which combined with the Devil’s presence in his apartment couldn’t possibly mean anything good. “Lucifer, what’s with the suitcase?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why is it here?”

“Well, you don’t expect me to wear _your_ clothes, right? I mean, even if we ignore your utterly terrible taste in fashion, your garments still wouldn’t fit me.”

“Lucifer, I swear to your Dad, if you don’t stop playing silly with me…”

“Well, I thought it was obvious, Daniel. You sure you haven’t injured your head as well?”

“What’s obvious?” the man asked already sensing what the answer would be.

“Well, I’m moving in, of course,” Lucifer beamed at him and patted his shoulder. “We’re roomies now.”

With the full awareness that he’d most probably regret it later, Dan muttered the only question he could think of, “Why?”

“Well, because you’re a stubborn, bullheaded, reckless, foolish guy!” Lucifer rolled his eyes and headed toward the sideboard where the detective kept his expensive liquor. “Trust me, I would have preferred it if you’d taken up my invitation to come live at the penthouse until you recover, but you just _had_ to make things difficult.”

“Look, man, I told you I’m--”

“ _Fine,_ ’’ the club owner finished, accompanying the word with another eye-roll and tossed back the bourbon he’d poured himself. _“_ Yes, I heard you the first bazillion times.”

“And you chose not to listen because?”

“Because you’re not fine, Dan. People don’t meet my sister when they’re _fine_.” His hands were shaking when he tried to refill his glass and he clenched them into fists, making an obvious effort to compose himself. “All I’m saying is that it would be best if you have someone to watch over you… At least for a few days. The Detective agrees with me. You still have a choice, of course. I can always strike a deal with Maze to play a nurse for a little while, if that’s what you’d prefer.”

“No, Lucifer…”

“Lovely! So I’m staying.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I know. And I usually don’t do the things I _have to_.” The Devil’s eyes flashed red for a second, but the expression on his face remained playful. “Come on, mate, it’ll be fun. Think of all the stuff we can do together.”

“Is that what this is about? You feel bored? I could swear you _just_ said I needed rest.”

“Well, yes, actually – I _do_ feel bored. But, _no_ , that’s not why I’m here.” There was a hardly contained note of exasperation in Lucifer’s voice that made Dan regret his comment. “Anyhow, if you’re done questioning my intentions, I believe it’s time I get to work.” The tall man marched to the fridge and studied its content with obviously growing vexation. “Well, this is pathetic, but I think I can make something out of it. Shall we start with a nice home-made pudding?”

“A what?”

“A pudding, Dan. Your favorite. Here – ” the fallen angel waved his phone in his friend’s general direction without averting his attention from the inside of the fridge, “– says that sugar increases the endorphins responsible for making you humans feel good, so I guess it’s a must during a recovery such as yours. I mean, I know the doctor prescribed you Vicodin for that, but one must never underestimate the healing power of delicious food.”

“Yeah, right. Look, man, thanks, but I’m really not hungry.”

“No?”

“No.” Dan knew Lucifer long enough to guess that he wouldn’t give up that easily. He sat on the stool next to the kitchen counter, mentally preparing for his friend’s argument, but he’d gone silent. The Devil seemed busy reading something on his phone and the detective rolled his eyes at his ridiculously short attention span. For a second he almost regretted refusing the pudding offer, but the pain in his guts quickly killed his appetite.

“What you said earlier about the heart attack was a joke, right?” Lucifer finally returned his full attention to the present moment with a newfound worry in his gaze.

“What? Yes, of course it was.”

“You sure? According to this article, the loss of appetite could be caused by heart failure. I suppose that’s more plausible than hypothyroidism in your case.” The club owner focused back on his phone and frowned, “Would you say you feel weak, lightheaded or short of breath?”

“I would say I feel slightly annoyed and short of patience.”

“Well, I guess that rules out internal bleeding, though unbalanced emotions can cause high blood pressure, which is bad for the--”

“Lucifer!” the detective raised his voice and reached out an arm in an attempt to grab his friend’s phone, but quickly regretted the action as his wounded flesh screamed in pain.

“Easy, Daniel! You’ll tear your stiches again,” the fallen angel hissed, his expression turning into a scowl. “It’s like you don’t even care about you own life.”

“Of course, I do!”

“Then why aren’t you more careful?” There was genuine concern and incomprehension in his friend’s eyes and Dan let out a deep sigh.

“What is this all about?” he asked, gently squeezing his upper arm. “I’m not going to die. The doctor wouldn’t have released me from the hospital if there was any actual danger for my life. You know that. Yes, it hurts. Sometimes it hurts a lot, but it’s not something I can’t take. So what’s the matter with you?”

“You’re wrong, you know?” Lucifer smiled ruefully and shook his head. “You _are_ going to die.”

“You know something I don’t?”

“I haven’t spoken to Azrael, if that’s what you mean. I don’t have to. It’s inevitable. That’s what you’re designed to do. _All_ of you. You’re born, you live and you die. If you’re lucky you have a little bit more time between your first and final breath, but it’s still just a second in the eyes of an immortal.” The Devil looked at the expensive leather of his shoes, without actually seeing it and continued his tirade, seemingly talking to himself, “I never really thought about it. Maybe because I was on the other side, maybe… But even after I came here… I always thought the only threats were the one I could see – a miscreant with a gun or poison, or… whatever. I thought that if you manage not to get killed, you’ll be fine, but that’s a lie. Whether it is now or in a few decades the outcome is the same.”

“Yes, man, but that’s natural. For _us_ at least.” The man frowned as it finally dawned on him, “But not for you. You’ll life forever and even if you die…”

“I’ll go to Hell,” Lucifer finished with a grim expression on his face. “You and the Detective, and Linda, and your spawn – you’ll all pass away one day. And for me you’ll be truly gone.”

“Come now, there will be plenty of time for us to fuck it up and earn a first-class ticked to Hell. Or even better, is the soul selling thing real?”

“You know, you really shouldn’t talk like this in front of the Devil.”

“I wouldn’t have if the Devil wasn’t pouting in my kitchen.” The man silently rejoiced when he saw his friend trying to bite back a smile and leaned forward to pat his shoulder.

“I don’t want any of you to go to Hell. I just… I don’t want to lose you.” Lucifer was looking at the bottle of bourbon on the kitchen counter and for a second seemed to regret his words, but didn’t say anything.

“Look, man, if you ask me, there aren’t many people more deserving of Heaven than you. I don’t know what beef you have with your Dad, but you’re a good man. And even though you can be a major pain in the ass, I’m glad I can call you my friend.”

“Likewise,” the fallen angel smiled with a shadow of sadness in his eyes.

“Oh, good,” Dan laughed and cautiously stood up. “And since we’re both here I say we make the most of the present moment, huh? What was that show you’ve been pressing me to watch? We can binge-watch it now.”

“Brooklyn Nine-Nine,” Lucifer beamed. “You’ll love it. It taught me a lot about police work.”

“Why am I not surprised you’ve been learning what is like to be a cop from a sitcom?” the detective rolled his eyes and for a second pondered whether hugging his friend would be too awkward. In the end, he opted for another pat on the shoulder and won a bright smile in response.

“Hey, man?”

“Hm?”

“About that pudding you were talking about…”

“Just say the words.”

 


End file.
